Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Samoa and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Smiths to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Jacob Miller,
Little Man,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Dead Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Oneida,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Junior Murvin,
Scientists,
Scratch Acid,
Inner City,
Erasure,
Severed Heads,
The Beau Brummels,
Blake Baxter,
Man Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Harmonia,
Tears for Fears,
Metal Thangz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Negative Approach,
Aural Exciters,
The Gladiators,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Busters,
Jandek,
Funkadelic,
Bad Manners,
Pet Shop Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
Derrick Morgan,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter and Kerry,
The Human League,
John Foxx,
Con Funk Shun,
Barrington Levy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Connie Case,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mark Hollis,
Deepchord,
Faust,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Glenn Branca,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fluxion,
Massinfluence,
Arab on Radar,
Los Fastidios,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echospace,
Minnie Riperton,
Duran Duran,
B.T. Express,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.